As Stevenson Evolves, So Does His Game

There are many more facets to DeShawn Stevenson's game than just dunking.
There are many more facets to DeShawn Stevenson's game than just dunking. (By Toni L. Sandys -- The Washington Post)
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By Mike Wise
Friday, March 7, 2008

Of all the stories explaining why the watered-down Wizards have been able to stay afloat in spite of major misfortune, DeShawn Stevenson's defines his team the most.

He came into the NBA at 19, levitating near the rim -- a new-jack kid drafted by the old and crotchety Utah Jazz. Within four years, he had predictably butted heads with Coach Jerry Sloan and eventually ended up in Orlando.

Stevenson had been called a young knucklehead. He had been told all the things he wanted to hear from family and friends -- "They're crazy if they don't play you" -- and none of the things he needed to hear about how to work to find his niche and survive in the league.

"If you look at my old film, anywhere near the basket it was a dunk," Stevenson mused the other day after practice. "I can dunk now and do things, but I don't have that explosion I've always had since I was a kid. My game had to change. I had to change."

He learned to play defense, getting in the grille of some of the game's most talented guards. He developed a deadeye, spot-up jumper from 25 feet and in. He subjugated his ego, too, realizing he was never going to be thought of as the wunderkind from Fresno, Calif., anymore. But that was okay. Eight years later -- in a ridiculously young league where a player a month shy of 27 can be called a hardened veteran -- he has a job.

"There are guys out there -- I hate to say his name, J.R. Smith -- that are stuck on wanting to be Carmelo [Anthony] and stuff," Stevenson said. "You got to be yourself. You got to get your own niche in the league."

Looking back, Stevenson's tale of adaptation and adjustment is just like the Wizards'?

If anyone had said Gilbert Arenas was on pace to miss more than 60 games this season after knee surgery and Caron Butler will probably miss 20 or more with a hip malady and that the Wizards would still toy with .500 and be on track to earn the sixth seed in the Eastern Conference playoffs, that person would have been laughed out of any room.

Eddie Jordan has had every alibi available, including Etan Thomas's possibly season-ending heart surgery. And yet the Wizards' coach and his staff have thus far turned in their most masterful job since coming to Washington in 2003.

The Wizards swept season series with Western Conference heavyweights such as the Hornets and the Mavericks. With Butler but not Arenas, they have beaten the full-strength Celtics twice, too. They came back from 20 down at Chicago last Saturday and won. Before it laid an egg against Orlando at home on Wednesday, Washington had won four of five and resisted every opportunity to throw away its season after a late-January and early-February swoon.

The character of Antawn Jamison and Antonio Daniels is part of it. Brendan Haywood's turnaround cannot be discounted. But it's the guy whom every fan wanted out of town after last year's four-game sweep to Cleveland in the playoffs (during which he shot 19 percent) -- wasn't the one-sided argument that Juan Carlos Navarro was the future at shooting guard? -- that most embodies the Wizards' ability to change direction on the fly.

After all, that's all Stevenson has known since he was drafted.

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